You're Telling Me!

Is that you, Samuel?

Yes... Yes, my bun, it's only me.

Is the...

Is the...

Is the dinner on the table, dear?

On the table and off,

five hours ago!

Don't exaggerate.

It's only the shank of the evening.

Half past eight.

Man on radio: We will now give you the correct time. Half past eight.

When you hear the sound of the gong, it will be exactly...

8:30. Take off your hat!

Where have you been?

Don't answer! I know what you're going to say.

"Down at the shop, working on an invention."

If you was married to Thomas Edison...

You're no Edison, Sam bisbee.

No, and you're no prophet, Mrs. Bisbee.

If you've no regard for me,

you might at least have some regard for your daughter's happiness.

My daughter's the happiest little girl in the world.

Her silvery laughter rings out from early morn

till late at night. Till late at night.

Yeah. Yes, very late.

But not in her own home, it doesn't...

Take those shoes off the table.

Who was putting them on the table?

Where is she now? What's she doing?

Who's she with?

I don't have to worry about my daughter.

Well, you'd better worry.

She wouldn't be out if she wasn't ashamed of her home, ashamed of you.

Me? Look at you.

Suppose she were entertaining a nice young man in her home,

and you came in looking like that,

with your shoes off, your suspenders down,

and your breath smelling of cheap liquor.

Cheap? Four dollars a gallon.

My daughter ashamed of my suspenders?

There she is now with that Bob murchison,

that no-good...

What did I tell you?

I forgot. What? Oh, yeah.

Kissing him. Kissing who?

Bob murchison. Who's kissing Bob murchison?

Pauline, our...

Well, that's life, dear.

Girls will be girls.

When I was a little boy, I used to kiss little girls.

A rich man's son making a fool of your daughter,

and you stand there.

No rich man's son will ever make a fool of Sam bisbee's daughter.

You might as well get that in your...

That's the... take of that hat!

I'm sorry.

There. There they are, right in my hand.

Good night, Bob.

I know how to solve our problem.

No, no, Bob.

You won't elope with me?

No.

You won't let me elope with you?

No.

What's keeping us apart?

Haven't you heard?

The railroad tracks.

Twenty years married to a man like you is enough for any woman...

Give him a rest, mom.

Say, you little night owl.

What do you mean by staying out the middle of the...

The middle of half past eight? Who, me?

Yes, you. Running around with that clown.

Never let it be said that...

Hey, you left your gadget on the doorknob.

Your father and I think this thing between you and that murchison boy

has gone far enough. Yes.

He doesn't seem to think so.

He just asked me to marry him.

Marry him? Darling.

Hey, didn't I tell you? I knew it all the time.

Abigail: Oh, shut up!

He really wants to marry you? Well, why not?

I'm young and healthy and full of the devil. Pauline!

Sure, my little daughter

doesn't have to be in a hurry to marry any man.

Pick and choose, dear.

Liberty is sweet.

Once you're married, it's just like being in jail.

I guess I'll go to bed.

Abigail: Look out!

Don't get tangled up in that thing again.

I won't get tangled up in nothing.

I'm going upstairs.

It's worse than flypaper.

Might as well have some flypaper curtains in the house as that...

You know, Charlie, I've been thinking about...

Look out! Don't sit down there.

That's another of my inventions.

It's what I call the "murder chair."

When a burglar comes in here and says, "stick 'em up,"

I get friendly with him. I say, "have a drink."

Then I invite him to sit down in the chair.

When he sits in the chair he releases that lever.

The iron ball comes up

and smites him upon the sconce,

thus knocking him deader than a doornail.

Now, don't either of you boys ever sit in that chair.

Put that down, will you, doc?

Soon as I get this tire on the market, I'll sell a lot of these things.

How's the tire coming, Sam?

Coming? It's perfected.

Get over there, and I'll give you a demonstration.

Get over, doc.

Now, give that wheel a spin.

Good. Now, stand clear, boys.

That's a puncture-proof tire.

Charlie: Say, that's pretty good.

Pretty good? It's perfect!

I've got nothing to worry about now for the rest of my life.

Hello. Hello.

Do I work fast?

My mother is calling on your mother this afternoon at 4:00.

But, Bob, why? What happened?

Well, after what you said last night about my family,

I decided to have it out with them. I know, darling.

But why does she have to call on us today?

What'd you say to her?

Nothing much.

I merely said I was going to marry pauline bisbee.

You did? I did.

And I am.

Mother's very much interested in meeting you.

I'll bet she is.

Well, I'd better go and break the news,

and if you see ten women being carried out of here

kicking and screaming, that'll be my mother.

Goodbye.

Howdy, boys! Hello, bill.

Say, Sam, I got a special delivery.

Registered airmail letter, here, for you.

Sam. Sam.

What's the matter with him?

Sound sleeper, that's all.

Hey, Sam!

Registered letter. Sign for it.

Sign for me, will you, doc?

She didn't work out as well as I thought she would.

Ought to put a heavier ball on there.

"Samuel bisbee..."

"Dear sir."

"Your letter, at hand, regarding your bisbee puncture-proof tire."

"If you care to demonstrate your invention to our company,"

"the board will meet you Saturday, June 12, at 2:00,"

"in our main office."

That's great, Sam!

Yes, I guess I finally put one over. Yes, sir.

Come on, Charlie, help me get this tire off.

Mrs. Bisbee? I'm Mrs. Murchison.

How do you do?

Won't you come in, please? Thank you.

So nice of you to call, Mrs. Murchison. Not at all.

I'm sure you understand why I'm here.

My daughter told me you were coming.

It's about your daughter I've come to see you, Mrs. Bisbee.

I suppose you already know that my son,

who is very young and unsophisticated,

has been... shall I say, taken in by her?

Has been what?

Well, fascinated by her.

Now he even talks of wanting to marry her.

Of course, with his social position, his family and his future...

In short, the whole affair's absurd, and I've come to...

And why is it absurd that your son should want to marry my daughter?

The women of the Warren family have always been above reproach.

That is history.

The Warren family?

You don't mean the warrens of Virginia?

My grandfather was general Robert Henry Warren of Virginia.

Not really!

There, you can see for yourself.

Well, this is a surprise.

Of course, you wouldn't recognize me.

I'm the baby on his lap.

That was taken on the veranda of our old homestead in war rent on.

You're sure this album belongs to you?

Quite sure. Oh, yes, yes, yes.

Then your daughter pauline is really a Warren!

Well, of course, that puts the whole affair

in an entirely different light.

You all right, boy? Yeah.

Glad you weren't hurt.

That's a puncture-proof tire.

Couldn't hurt that tire.

Knock the tree down first.

I still think Robert's far too young to marry,

and I was afraid some cheap girl of vulgar family...

You understand.

Delicious, delicious!

Robert tells me your husband is a businessman.